


Their Saving Grace

by Loser_Angel_666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Sharing a Bed, but they were already in love, so... falling deeper in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28536780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loser_Angel_666/pseuds/Loser_Angel_666
Summary: Their line of work isn't exactly a walk in the park and now that Cas is basically human, things feel fragile. One wrong look at each other and they could be falling into each other or turning away. Dean and Cas find comfort in simply being close, and if they find a way to finally express their feelings for good, maybe it will make the hell hole of a life they live that much better.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester - Relationship, She's only mentioned once though I'm sorry
Comments: 9
Kudos: 117





	Their Saving Grace

The air was knocked out of him as he was slammed against the wall, knife to throat. The angel moves the blade to his cheek, carelessly swiping it across his face. The cut isn’t deep, it’s not meant to hurt him physically. It’s mocking him. He feels the sting, and he sees the blood on her regular old blade and he’s reminded again that he might as well be human now.

“You bleed Castiel. You bleed red.” The angel says, “Do your friends know? Does Dean Winchester know what you sacrificed for him?”

Cas doesn’t answer, he only huffs out a breath, trying not to panic. He just needs to find a moment of hesitation or weakness, if he can get his hands on an angle blade he’ll be okay.

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’. So let me get this straight… you gave up your grace, your home, all of it… you are hunted Castiel, and you did it all for one man.”

“It was worth it.” Cas forces out through clenched teeth, looking his opponent in the eyes. The blade presses more firmly against Cas’ throat in warning but Cas keeps talking anyway. “And you know what? Given the chance, I would do it all again.”

“You are foolish.” Cas flinches at the yell, crowded tighter against the cold brick wall, the angel’s dark eyes looking angrily into his, “You really think he feels the same way? That he would do the same for you had the roles been reversed? You can love him with all your human heart has to offer, you could bleed out all your blood for him and he will still not love you back, Castiel, you have to know that don’t you?” Cas swallows, but gives no reaction. “They don’t care,”

“That's not true,” Cas spits. “They’re family,”

“Then where are they?” The angel sneers. “You are not worth it for him. You are not worth anything to him. You’re human.” 

The knife is drawn back, and maybe if Cas had thought a little quicker, maybe if he had another second to make a move… but the words had taken him by surprise, knocking the air from his lungs, he knew they could be true, it was an insecurity Cas had been trying so hard to force out of his head, but to hear it spoken aloud rattled him to the core. The angel raises the blade, it’s not even an angel blade, Cas’ mortality is threatening, his life can be taken easily now, a simple bullet, a blade in the right place, not enough sleep or food… he feels weak. 

Suddenly there’s light, the angel falls back a little, knife clattering to the ground, eyes lit up and burning away, Cas shields his eyes until he sees the brightness fade and hears the body hit the floor. When he looks again, Dean is standing in front of him, angel blade in hand. He looks worried, and before Cas can fully realize that he isn’t about to die, Dean has already dropped his angel blade and moved his hands to grip at Cas’ shoulders, his coat, holding his cheek and examining the cut.

“You okay?” He asks and Cas only nods, letting Dean inspect his minor injury for a second before pushing him away.

“I’m okay, Dean.” 

“Sam should be back at the car by now, we should go before more angels find their way back to us, We’ve got Baby warded,”

So Cas grabs Dean’s abandoned weapon and follows him out the door and down the hall. Sam is waiting impatiently against Baby when they reach the sidewalk, blood smeared across the side of his head and his shirt. Cas wishes again that he could heal him, he still has some grace left, but it’s weak and fading. He knows it’s not enough to save a life, but the Winchesters have refused even the smallest bruises to be fixed. Cas stopped healing himself ages ago, not wanting to waste grace on himself in case something happened to the Winchesters.

In the car, Cas is quiet, there isn’t much to say, but he can see Dean’s tightened grip on the steering wheel and his glances in the rearview mirror. He feels like he screwed up. He had to let someone else save him again. He couldn’t heal a cut, he couldn’t smite an angel or demon, he’s human, in all the ways that count. The angel had been right, he was worthless to them, and although Cas knows they care about him, he’s much more useful as an angel.

“Cas, you know what she said was bullshit, right?” Dean grumbles suddenly. Cas looks up and makes eye contact with Dean through the rearview mirror. “Seriously man, don’t listen to her. She was just trying to get into your head,”

“I know, Dean.”

When they reach the bunker it’s starting to get late and the rest of the evening is spent washing up and relaxing. Sam pats Cas on the back, assuring him that his cheek will heal just fine without stitches, and he says that he’s glad Cas is okay, which makes his heart warm a little bit.

Cas takes a shower, letting the hot water rinse the dirt and blood from his body. The heat and the water pressure stings the cut on his cheek and he watches the blood swirl down the drain. He feels tense and stiff from the hunt and the shower does help, but when he gets out, he still feels sore. He puts one of the first aid creams on his cut and decides to leave it at that, and when he steps out of his room in a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, Dean is at the stove, already showered.

“You ready for pasta?” He asks, “About ten minutes, have a seat,”

Sam is still in his room, on facetime with Eileen most likely, and Jack is watching TV in the Dean-Cave. Dean stirs the pasta lightly and then turns to grin at Cas.

“So…” He says, Cas smiles back, wincing when it tugs on his cut, Dean’s smile drops a little. “You’re uh, you’re human?”

“Not quite.” Cas sighs. “But I’m not much of an angel anymore either, I thought if I was careful I could save my grace. But it’s diminishing on its own as well.”

“Will you… be okay?”

“I will survive, yes. But I’ll be human in a matter of weeks I think.”

“Okay,” Dean nods, taking in the information. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Cas. we don’t care, okay? Human, angel, whatever. You’re Cas.”

“Still, it’s true I won’t be as helpful, that was only proven today,”

“Then we’ll train you, Sam and I weren't perfect at first either,” Dean promises. He glares at Cas until Cas nods in agreement, and then he turns back to the tomato sauce he has heating next to the pasta. “You’re still the guy who pulled me out of fucking hell, man. I’m sure you’ll be just as badass in human form.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas says. Dean looks at him, holds his gaze for a split second too long, smiling softly, as if Cas was something to be proud of, something to adore. It’s gone as quick as Cas could blink and then Dean is pulling the pots off the burners.

“You wanna tell Jack and Sammy dinner is ready?”

All that’s left of dinner is dirty dishes in the sink, and although Cas feels as awake as ever, he knows it’s well past the appropriate waking time. There are nights when sleep feels impossible, when Cas could stare at the wall, or the ceiling, or the night sky and wish for his brain to put him to rest, and it would just never come. This is one of those nights. He suspects it is for Dean too. He’s too awake to go to bed, but he’s too exhausted to do anything but sleep. So he sits here at the table with a beer and Dean after everyone else has gone and he knows Dean will probably head to bed any minute now.

“What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like?”

“Your grace. Losing it…”

“It feels… like I’m standing in the middle of a windstorm. It’s tingling and then it’s just… slipping away, like a bar of soap in the shower, only with more power than you could ever comprehend as a human.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says.

“Don’t be.”

“It’s because of me, though. Right?”

“Yes. It is. But I don’t blame you.”

“Why not?”

“I chose this Dean, and I didn’t do it recklessly. I knew the risks I was taking, and I knew what I was fighting for, I knew whose side I was on, still am on and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Dean looks at him, nodding quickly and looking away.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I meant what I said, you are worth it Dean.” 

Another moment passes with them simply looking at each other. Cas feels open, his soul ready to be bared. Not completely, never completely, he learned that from Dean, but Cas knows who he is. He’s an angel, even when he’s human. He’s moved mountains and rebuilt the world. He’s fought unimaginable evils. He is a warrior, a leader, albeit a bad one at times, he is strong, and his love for Dean only strengthens him. But tonight he feels brittle. Tonight, he looks at Dean and aches for comfort, aches to feel loved as strongly as he loves. He had been able to push it away as an angel, he felt it, but he could control his reactions to it. As a human, his heart never stopped stuttering out of his control, his face flushed, his grin uncontained. 

“You are too, Cas. Worth it…” Dean says, it’s so quiet Cas thinks he’s misheard him. Maybe it was just his imagination. “You’re worth everything.”

“Dean?” Cas says. It’s a question in and of itself, Dean continues talking. He has a purpose now, a train of thought, words that he’s had rattling in his brain for so long he knows they have to come out sometime. Somehow. Cas has lived long enough without knowing what that means to Dean.

“I would do the same for you. Hell, I’d do almost anything for you,” He swallows hard, looking away. “It terrifies me, man. It fucking terrifies me what I would do if it meant you were okay.”

Cas thinks maybe they’ve both had half a drink too many, they aren’t drunk, but it’s enough to get those words out of Dean’s mouth. Either way, Cas’ eyes burn and he blinks but Dean’s face blurs anyway. He blinks harder, not wanting to let him out of his sight. The lights are dim and they're both a little beat up, but Dean is beautiful. He always has been.

“I guess you know that though, after purgatory.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Silence. “Well you do now.”

“I do.” Cas whispers.

Dean clears his throat. “Are you going to bed? You look like you could use it.”

“Maybe,” Cas shrugs, content to sit here with Dean all night. “Are you?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

“Me neither.”

And so they stay there for a few more minutes, talking in hushed voices and laughing and they feel kind of refreshed after that. When Dean stands, stretching out his back, he looks back down at Cas like he’s considering something. Like he’s deciding between life and death.

“My bed has memory foam.”

“I know,”

“It could remember you too.” 

Cas stands with Dean and they smile at each other like they were able to finish the conversation with their eyes. Dean smiles at Cas like he’s still an angel, hoping, reaching out, and Cas smiles back like he’s giddy from the closeness, happier than he’s been since the last time they spent time alone together. They stand together and they’re so far apart, it’s only a few inches, but Cas feels the distance between their hands and aches to reach out to Dean. Maybe he’s allowed to now. Maybe Dean would want that too. But Cas is too scared to drive him away. They both end up at Dean’s door, hesitant and hopeful and it’s Cas who opens the door, but it’s Dean who pulls back the covers.

Then they’re both under the blankets, facing each other in the dark, but not touching, Cas has a hand on the sheets between them and Dean looks at it, reaching out and taking it before he can convince himself not to. Cas intertwines their fingers and smiles, pulling Dean closer until they’re wrapped up in each other, warm and safe and in love. But this world is dangerous, and Cas and Dean get the worst of it all, to say it out loud, to act on it beyond what they have right here… it would be disastrous. 

Or it could be their saving grace.

When Cas wakes up in the morning the first time, Dean Winchester is asleep, he’s sprawled out on his stomach, halfway on top of Cas, one leg thrown over Cas’ legs and one arm wrapped around Cas’ waist, his face tucked into his shoulder. He’s breathing deep and content and Cas has warmth in his chest and his cheeks and wrapped up next to him. 

The second time Cas wakes up, the bed is empty, the blankets are tucked more securely around Cas and although he’s been left alone in the bed, he doesn’t feel abandoned, he feels cared for. He knows they probably won’t mention it. But he also knows he wasn’t the only one who found comfort in their shared space.

Over the next few days, somehow Dean and Cas continue to be the last ones awake. Sometimes, Dean suggests they go for a ride, and so he makes them coffee, despite it being night, and they put it in a big travel mug, but they only have one, so they have to share it. Dean takes them to Target and they buy two more travel mugs, because they really do need their own, plus one for Sam or Jack. 

They drive out to random clearings and pull off the side of the road to just sit in the car and look at the sky and talk. Not about what they are to each other, never about that. Most of their conversations are lighthearted and full of inside jokes and childhood stories and complaining about the guy who took the last box of cereal at the grocery store.

Sometimes he and Dean go to the Dean-Cave and watch movies, and sometimes they settle onto Dean’s bed with his laptop and netflix because the Dean Cave is too big and spacey, and it feels nice to be right next to each other.

More often than not, Dean’s arm ends up behind Cas and Cas’ head leans over against Dean’s sideways until they’re completely wrapped up in each other, whether they realize it or not.

Regardless of how it happens, Cas’ room hasn’t been in use for almost a week, and Dean steals blankets and takes up too much space, he rolls over, crowding Cas to the very edge of the bed until he has to push Dean back to his own side, and every morning, they wake up right next to each other. It’s a miracle Sam hasn’t noticed yet.

Still, they haven’t really talked about it. Cas thinks maybe they won’t ever talk about it, and if they do, Cas will be the one talking. He doesn’t expect Dean to be able to reciprocate, not with the life they live. 

During the day, Dean and Cas don’t sit any closer than they normally would,, granted they already sat too close, but Dean never reached for Cas’ hand. Cas never leaned in too close when Dean was talking. They were different, but to the rest of the world, they were the same.

Two weeks later, Dean and Cas are pressed together in a booth at a small diner. Jack and Sam across from them. The conversation isn’t particularly riveting, it’s mostly between Sam and Dean, but Cas has his eyes focused on Dean, as he usually does. Then Dean turns to make a comment to Cas, grinning, and his hand falls on Cas’ thigh casually, only he doesn’t move it until he has to reach across the table for the condiments, but then a few minutes later, it’s his foot. Knocking into Cas’ and Cas nudges his foot back and he thinks they’ve crossed another line.

Suddenly, it’s not something confined to the lonely spaces of Dean’s room. It’s not just a reach for comfort when they’re both alone and fragile. (As ruthless and legendary hunters as they both may be, they are also fragile as fuck, don’t question me on this). It’s not keeping Cas close because he’s human now, because Cas is lost and Dean is scared to lose him, and it isn’t Cas grasping to find something stable in his rickety fall from grace.

Dean isn’t an early riser, but now that Cas sleeps it’s been discovered that Dean is an early riser compared to Cas. Either way, Dean has coffee ready for Cas when he wakes up. Sam goes out with Eileen sometimes, and on those nights, they make sure Jack is settled for the night early and Dean pulls out convenient store pie and puts on Zeppelin, and it isn’t a date. Not at all. But what else could it be? 

They argue, but it’s all in good nature, the bickering turns into flirting, even if Sam or Eileen or Jack is there. It’s not like they’re actually flirting, but Dean slings an arm over Cas’ shoulder or keeps his hand on his back, or leans in and knocks their heads together when they’re talking closely and laughing.

Sam notices, then. There’s no way he doesn't. He doesn’t mention it though, he lets them revel in whatever it is they have. Cas thinks he’s happy for them too, because he smiles when he catches Cas grinning absently at Dean, and when Dean offers Cas his last piece of bacon.

One afternoon, Cas is coming from his room to get a new book, but he stops outside the library when he hears Dean and Sam whisper-yelling.

“Dean you can’t just… you can’t pretend it’s nothing, this isn’t nothing,”

“That’s the problem!” Dean says. “It’s something! It’s a big something. It’s… it’s- fuck, Sammy, it’s everything. It’s Cas.”

“So tell him,”

“I can’t,”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know how! Because-”

Cas backs away, because it’s not for his ears and he’s already heard too much. But he aches for Dean, he’s not sure exactly what to take from the conversation, considering it was likely about him, but Dean doesn’t do raw emotion like that. Cas wants it though, he wants Dean to be open and honest and emotional with him. He wants to be emotional with Dean. He’s not sure if they’ve gotten there yet.

The next day, Sam comes home from the grocery store and takes out a pie, the whip-cream on top is pink, purple, and blue and Sam puts it down in front of Dean with a grin.

“I figured words would be too cheesy, but I’m proud of you Dean.” Sam says, Dean looks up at him, a little lost, then stares back at the pie, grinning and looking very much like he’s trying not to cry.

“Thanks Sammy.”

Sam pats Dean on the back, puts away the rest of the groceries and claps Cas on the shoulder on the way out. Dean opens the pie with reverence and digs in immediately.

“You want a bite?” He says to cas through a mouthful.

Cas gets better on hunts, mostly because of the training Dean and Sam give him. He’s still not great, but he’s good enough, he can take a fight. Cas has saved Dean as a human, and Dean saves Cas too, and on the hunts when they both come back bloody and bruised and shivering, they seem to stay up later, huddled together with a beer and a first aid kit, pretending they’re not terrified of what nearly happened. Pretending Cas isn’t horrified that he can’t heal Dean anymore besides the gentleness of his hands on beaten skin and the antibiotic cream. Pretending that Dean doesn’t have nightmares about Cas dying, now that almost anything could take him out. 

Those nights are silent. Too shaken up to dig any deeper into that pain, into the fear. So they just sit by each other and hope for the best, hope that the worst they get is a split lip or a cracked rib and that at the end of the day, Dean will still be there to pull back the blankets and Cas will still be there to crawl under them.

The nights that aren’t so silent are the days off. It’s beginning to feel peaceful again, between hunts, and things are tense, building up because Dean and Cas both know there’s more to this now. They both know it goes farther and deeper than either of them have been able to admit. It’s always been like this, but neither of them can figure out what kind of beginning is big enough for a love like theirs. So it continues to go unsaid.

Dean is sitting in his bed scrolling through Netflix on his laptop when Cas comes in. He sits on the edge of their bed and looks over at Dean.

“There’s nothing good on here,” Dean complains, closing the computer and putting it on the table.

“We could just go to bed,” Cas suggests.

“Or we could just talk…” 

“We could.”

“Cool.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Cas asks, tipping his head towards Dean.

“Well, get in bed, you look too formal,” Dean grumbles, pulling back the blankets. Once they’re both under the covers and laying on their side, resting up on the elbows, Dean turns off one of the lamps so the lights aren’t as bright but they can still see each other well.

They don’t say anything for a minute, caught up in just smiling at each other, and then Dean’s hand comes out and lands on Cas’ arm, it’s soft at first, then he’s rubbing his thumb across Cas’ arm and it makes his heart melt and do flips and all that stupid human stuff. Dean Winchester is smiling at him and Cas thinks he could die right here and now. He thinks he needs to say something. To do something. But nothing is big enough. Nothing is grand enough.

He thinks for a minute, looking at Dean's face, and then he whispers a single word in enochian. He knows Dean doesn’t know the translation, but he knows what it means. From the reverence Cas said it with, the look in his eyes, it’s obvious. 

“Cas,” Dean says, looking devastatingly happy. His grip on Cas arm tightens and Dean swallows.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too,” Dean says, his voice is thick and his hand moves from Cas’ arm to the back of his neck. “God, Cas, I love you.”

Then he’s leaning in, giving Cas time to pull away, But Cas leans in too, a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and then they’re kissing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 comments and kudos are very appreciated :)
> 
> find me on twitter: queer_angel_  
> Or tumblr: king-of-queer-ships


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